


sunday always comes too late

by plethora



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Bittersweet, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plethora/pseuds/plethora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For someone who sees being married as being tied down, James is awfully good at playing domestic. Niki is skeptical. [Christmas fluff, really.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	sunday always comes too late

Niki learns to treasure the quiet moments between them.

It's November, a mid afternoon, the pair of them in James' bed. Suzy's sheets, crips and deep blue, swallowing them up like a sea as he rests his head on James' chest.

They're talking on and off, but mostly basking in the afterglow of a fantastic fuck as the shit sunday TV buzzes dimly in the background. He's aching all over in the best way and cuddling as some programme about Christmas music plays on unnoticed. Ridiculous. He could almost scoff, because if this isn't domesticity he doesn't know what is. 

It doesn't happen though, the laugh, because thinking about what they're doing as domesticity just. Makes his chest pang. A hollow ringing that threatens to shatter his entire rib cage. 

He swallows.

He's not usually soppy. 

Niki huffs and James' fingers pause scritching his hair. 

“Mm?” he says, a questioning noise, and Niki considers faking being asleep because what he was going to say sounds so stupid and impulsive. 

He stays very still and tries to will James' fingers back into his hair, stroking back and forth at the little patch of skin behind his ear and never failing to make all the tension drain from his body.

“I know you're not asleep.” James says, reaching for his cigarettes. “I can feel you blinking against my chest.”

Fuck it Niki thinks, and pulls the covers up some. 

“What was it?” James asks again, and exhales, coils of smoke drifting upwards. 

Niki glances towards the window. There are twinkly fairy lights around it and a tiny tree so covered in baubles it's more decoration than tree. It's a wonder it's even staying stood. 

He wonders if they decorated it together, James and Suzy, between the arguments that are becoming ever more frequent, and gets a little stab of jealousy. 

He stamps it down but it makes his lip curl even so. The irrational bit of his brain wants to just blurt it out. Will we ever have some domesticity that isn't sneaking about? Will you ever stop sleeping around? Do you love me? Do you love me more than her? 

“I'm waiting.” James says, and Niki gets the sense that he isn't going to be able to wriggle out of this one. 

Best pick the least offensive one of the lot. 

“Do you think we'll ever have a Christmas where we don't have to sneak around like this?”

James laughs and Niki squints. He'd expected James to freeze up maybe. He's become tetchy about anything to do with him and Suzy lately. Still, he can roll with this. 

“Oh Niki. What do you want to do, hm?” 

He stubs his cigarette out and hauls Niki up until they're nearly face to face. Niki feels uncomfortable under his gaze. 

“Do you want to exchange huge presents and have a dinner fit for a king and – I don't fucking know- get too pissed to stand?”

Niki huffs out a laugh. 

“Is that a standard Christmas for you?”

James grins. 

“Well, that and a great deal more shagging, yes.”

He steals a kiss and Niki shoves him off but he doesn't mean it. He snuggles closer. He hates this. Getting what he wants (the closeness and affection and such) but in small, addictive doses. How he's always left wanting more. He shudders in self-disgust. He's no better than a daydreaming teenage girl. What next, drawing James' name in hearts on his diary cover? 

“Shut up taking the piss, I mean it, James.”

James goes to light up again and Niki pinches it from him.

“Oi!”

“You've just had one. They're no good for you, you know?” he says, but smokes it himself all the same. James laughs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks like sin incarnate, hair mussed from fucking, gloriously naked, lips bruised from kissing. He's almost painful to look at. A familiar ache settles in Niki's bones. 

“We will.” James says, brushing their noses together, voice unusually hushed. 

“You actually want that?” 

James nods. 

Niki wants most desperately to believe him. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” he murmurs, mock grave expression on his face.

Niki sighs frustratedly. 

“Niki, I mean it!”

“Hmm.”

“I do. I want it too! We will get that. I can't say when – you know I can't, but-”

“I know you can't say when, I'm not stupid. I just wanted to make sure we were- on the same page. Or something.” 

He's uncomfortable talking like this. James too close and staring at him. Niki's never seen him quite so serious. His gaze feels like a weight on him. 

James tangles their legs together. 

“We'll have a tree. A huge tree. And it'll be covered in so much tinsel and shit it'll be a major ire hazard.”

“Ah yes, winning me over with that old Christmas tradition; the fire hazard.”

James digs him in the ribs. 

“Shit off, I'm trying to be romantic here.”

“Burning trees. Good start.”

“And presents! You're not too serious for presents are you? I wonder sometimes if you write off Christmas as too frivolous.”

Niki tries to kick him but James is clinging too tight for it to be successful. 

“We'd have presents, of course we'd have presents.” 

James grins at him. 

“And a huge dinner so big we'd need a sleep after it?”

“Isn't the tradition going for a walk after dinner, not sleep?”

“Fuck that for a laugh. I'd much rather have a cig and pass out in front of one of those terrible Christmas specials.”

“You're really treating me here, James. A tree disaster, presents, a dinner so vast it disables us, and terrible TV.”

“You're the one who wanted it in the first place!” 

Niki can't hold back a smile. 

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

He pauses for a moment, unsure. James talking about it is easy enough but he could just be kidding. It could just be another pipe dream. Something he does to stop him from being bored between racing and bedding British Airways' entire roster of hostesses. 

That last bit makes jealousy settle right under his breastbone, a squeezing sort of pain. 

“James?”

“Hm? Yes darling?”

“You do know that if you're just fucking around I'll kill you, right?”

James looks at him solemnly. 

“Absolutely, yes.”

The weight in his chest lessens a little, if only for now. 

“Good” he says, drawing James in for a peck on the lips and letting him deepen it, indulgent. “I was just checking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote drunk, edited sober. Please point out any mistakes if you find them. Enjoy!


End file.
